


Teen Fitchner

by bigaddfitchner



Category: Red Rising Series - Pierce Brown
Genre: Awkwardness, Multi, Shyness, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigaddfitchner/pseuds/bigaddfitchner
Summary: A series of one shots with an angsty, shy teen Fitchner! (no chronological order)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Teen Fitchner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate his 16th birthday, Fitchner is taken by his father to Pinks for the first time. Nervous an unready, he doesn't know what to do – or if he really wants to do anything to begin with.   
> However, choosing a lavender-haired Pink seemed to have been his best option.

"Here it is," His dad sighed, resting a hand on Fitchner's shoulder. "Your birthday gift, Fitch. Everything a young man would desire."

Fitchner looked poker-faced to the building in front of him. It should've had Paradise written on it's facade, but the P had fell long before their arrival.

"Straighten your back for once, gorydamned you to be!" The older shout, smacking Fitchner on his back. "Don't be so hunched! You will make these women charge me extra for the looks." 

Fitchner fled from his touch, hissing at the sharp pain in his back. 

''You have experience?'' He muttered, with spite in his words. 

His father caught him by his hood and dragged him closer. Unable to fight, Fitchner left his warrior pride aside and allowed himself to be pulled until the breath of his very disgusting father reached his ear. 

''Of course I have experience, moron. I have the same face as you and your gorydamned grandfather.'' 

''Grandpa is much more handsome than you.'' 

That greasy bastard flicked his nose.

Fitchner twisted his expression. 

''The other grandpa, shit. The one you got this ugly ass nose from.'' His hand reached Fitchner's shoulder. ''Now zip it and tell me how much you love the gift your dada gave you.'' 

It was no point arguing with him. Never was and never will. All that motherfucker had in his skull was a liquified brain and porn. 

Fitchner confined all his anger in himself and reduced it into a mutter. 

"It's alright.''

''Oh, shove that alright in your ass, boyo,''

They strolled to the entrance.

Well, strolling was not... the right term. His father was walking, sure, but Fitchner was merely material to be dragged around. 

''You will be thanking your dad if you get out winning from there. I mean, without crapping your pants. That's how I define winning. I just know you love to do so.'' 

His vile, little, pig eyes followed Fitchner's gaze. He chose to ignore the remark, at least on the surface. 

Though, his eyes did wander around in search of anyone who could have witnessed their discussion. 

He hadn't shat his pants in a few years, if anyone had heard them.

He just loved to mock him! 

"Though, being serious, better keep your intestines on a schedule because your mother brought these pants with hard worked credits. A brown stain and they fly either directly to the trash can, or you will have to wear them to your Institute years."

Fitchner clenched his jaw, deepening his head in between shoulders. 

Left robbed of a response, his father shook him.

"Understood, pants crapper?" 

Fitchner didn't lift his gaze from the ground.

"Understood."

The old fart pushed him to the widely opened doors. Fitchner dangled in front.

He shot a gaze full of spice to the bigger man. 

"Now move and stop being such a wimp. You act like I am going to sell you to these Pinks, not buy one for you." 

When Fitchner rose his eyes, he met the sight of an elderly Pink, or, rather, the sight of her giant bun. 

It had the pleasing color of cotton candy.

She lowered her glasses. Her eyes were carefully following the heavy steps of Fitchner's dad. 

"Dominus Barca," She greeted. "Glad I see your face around again. I was quite worried our services became too lowly and some others struck your fancy." 

Fitchner looked up to his father, who avoided making eye contact in those moments. A hand of his reached Fitchner's back and the message became crystal clear.

He had to keep his mouth shut.

"It's true those babes from across the streets had some appealing attributes," He told her, mimicking something suggestive enough to spur the Pink's chuckle. "But they were shitheads with the prices. No one will be as honest as my sweet Prusilda." 

"You are too nice with us, dominus," Her experienced eyes slipped to the younger Gold. "Are there two customers we have today?" 

His father clicked his tongue, pulling from his jacket a golden card Fitchner had never seen before. He stared at it with a bleak expression. 

"Got this gift thingy on my subscription card a while ago and since I have not much of a friend list, decided to make my son a gift to match his value," He grabbed Fitchner by his jacket, dragging him near the reception. "He was accepted in the Institute. He will finish school sooner than I finish my job with one of your wonder babes and will become a gorydamned Peerless Scarred!" 

Prusilda tilted her glasses. She scrutinized Fitchner from head to toe. 

"He surely has the face of a Peerless Scarred. He will be a mighty boy, I tell you, dominus." 

"Not once I doubted the truth,'' His father said.

Yeah, sure. He has a face as handsome as the old fart besides him. 

He wanted to call himself logical, but his heart did grow at her remark.

The expired balloon propped his elbows on the reception table.

''Cut the shit, Prusilda, and tell me if that piece of plastic is worth anything. If not, I can pay full credits today. There is nothing I wouldn't do for my birthday boy."

Fitchner really wanted to believe him. 

Prusilda took the card between her fingers.

"Of course it is worth something, dominus," She smiled to both of them.

Fitchner's heart flinched at her beautiful expression. 

"It's worth a lot. It is a discount you get on any Pink lady you choose or, in this case, the Pink your future Peerless Scarred likes the most,'' Her eyes reached Fitchner. "Have you got any preferences, dominus?" 

He shrugged, to his father's despair. 

A sharp feeling struck his nape. Fitchner shrilled. 

"Use words!" His father cried. "Gory wimp you are. Use words! These women are here to suck your dick, not to decipher your tribute to deaf and mutes!"

Fitchner stroked where his father's hand hit, not once loosening him from a really dark gaze.

"Dominus, please, take him easy. It is his first time through Pinks, isn't it?" 

"How can it be his first time through Pinks?" His father shout. "There is no such thing, Prusilda! He will be a Peerless Scarred soon, don't you think a little? This boy right here made his training with a bunch of other of your Colour before!" 

The truth was that Fitchner had never touched a Pink before.

Well, the complete truth was that his hands had never been on anyone before.

But of course his father would lie through his teeth about things like these. Banalities of those sort. 

Fucking Pinks was the only thing that the old bastard filled his time with. Aside, of course, of drinking and falling under any table he is remotely close to. 

"So he has experience," Prusilda nodded. "It means... you don't have a preference set in stone?"

Fitchner was quick to mutter: 

"Yes." 

"Good. Perfect." Prusilda rose from her place and flicked a finger to them. "Come, follow me. I will show you what I got for you, dominus," 

When she had turned her back at them, their eyes both fell on a... pleasing view. 

It was another bun that was big at Prusilda, aside of the one in her head. 

Him and his father exchanged approving gazes. It was the closest thing they had to a bond. 

"I wish I could catch her at the corner and show her how much I love old hags," His father whispered. "Unfortunately, her Obsidians are around here." 

Fitchner was travelled by a thrill. 

"That's horrible." He hissed as a response. 

He leant an ear closer.

"Said something, boyo?"

Fitchner looked up to his eyes. 

Maybe he truly didn't hear him.

Or was trying to scare him. 

Whatever it would be...

"No." 

Fitchner found comfort in lies.

"You will surely like my girls." Prusilda said as they reached a big living room, where were seated so...so...so many girls.

Or women.

Or both. 

And they were gorydamned beautiful.

Aside of beautiful, they were also really thinly veiled.

Well, of course they were!

Pinks were like that. 

But at that degree? 

He meant... they were... too naked.

He was not sure what was milking the heat out from his bloodstream more. Their alluring eyes? The abnormal amount of attention surrounding him? Or those exposed breasts, all so different in shapes and sizes, yet not even one to be considered ugly?

Fitchner couldn't say for sure.

His blazing cheeks and red ears talked for himself. 

There was no much Fitchner could give to Prusilda, unsure if a quick nod and a few mutters were fit to be considered answers. 

Hopefully, his father was there to be his rudder.

"You put some unfamiliar faces here and there, Prusilda. Not bad, not bad at all." 

There was nothing he loved more than talking for Fitchner. 

Maybe only talking over him. 

"You would've known more about it, dominus, if you would've visited us as often," Prusilda's turned back became a full view to her wide smile. "Look closely and choose, dominus. Take your time. My girls are truly trouble when it comes to choosing between their beautiful faces." 

Fitchner approved her words, subtly dragging his shirt as low as he could.

There was a Pink with turquoise hair, and one with an almost orange-yellow hair, that had the most beautiful gazes of them all.

But would they want Fitchner? 

Oh, stupid question! 

They were Pinks! They were supposed to want him! But... 

Would they really, in their soul? He didn't want to gross them out, after all...

An older hoomer caught his attention quickly. She was lasciviously dragging her mildly transparent bra to side, making shivers go down Fitchner's spine. 

"Money is not the problem, Fitch," His father reminded him. "In fact, Prusilda, don't even tell the price of whatever Pink my boy chooses until they are long gone. I don't want my poor kid to have the credits on his mind as he enjoys his birthday gift." 

Prusilda nodded with obedience. 

"So? Is one that you relish on looking at the most, dominus?" 

They were all beautiful.

And they were all flawless: both body and face. Their curves were so perfectly balanced, it became too stifling to watch, and all seemed so interested... 

Fitchner wanted a piece more of that view. 

"Come, Fitch," His dad checked the watch at his wrist. "Choose faster. If you keep pissing your pants, your mother will start to doubt that bowling is taking us so long."

Fitchner faced the ground. 

"Um," It took him a second to point, blindly, to one random Pink. "This one, please." 

Why did he say please?

Shame made the flames in his body grow worse. The woman got up from the scarlet couch and stepped closer.

He peeked an eye, curious of his own choice. 

She had a very interesting hair. The color of lavender. And her face was so pretty, too...

His eyes went down. Without him wanting to look or anything. His gaze just dropped. 

At the sight of her translucent dress, that covered very poorly her breats, Fitchner turned scarlet. 

He rushed to look the other way.

"Nice chick you got." His father replied. "Well, take her to the bed and I will see you in an hour." 

"Dominus," Prusilda stopped him. "I know you said you don't want to talk about prices, but the charging system changed from the old time. We charge more for anal these days." 

"You charge more?!" He shout. "What kind of fuckery is this, Prusilda? This is robbery! Robbery, I say!" 

"We have a lot of taxes on our head, dominus. We try to cope as much as we can."

The older Gold sighed. 

Somewhere in between their dispute, the lavender-haired Pink sneaked in and curled a thin hand around his.

He stiffened. 

Her touch was... very cold, but so welcoming. So desirable.

They both sat there: googling, with Fitchner sitting more uneasy on legs than the Pink.

"We figured out it would be just right to charge for anything that goes inside the customer. For the cleanings, you know."

"Are you out of our gorydamned minds, Prusilda?" The older Gold thundered. "My son is not putting anything up his ass. Stop with this already and let the kid have fun without your sketchy stuff."

Prusilda bowed her head in front of Fitchner.

"I apologise for disturbance, dominus. I highly hope you will enjoy our services."

"He better be!" He heard his father shout from hall. "That chick is too hot not to, anyway. As father, as son! Good taste runs in family!"

Fitchner only wished there were other things more important that could have ran in the family. 

Like a decent face. Or some money. Or... a less awkward existence.

The next thing he knew was the act itself of... staying. 

Staying with his ass on the bed, with a Pink besides him, and a bunch of rose petals sprinkled around. 

Not at all embarrassing enough to be worth writing a book of shame about.

It took subtle seconds to reach the narrow room, that rather felt like a humid prison than anything else, but it took longer than infinity for anyone to talk.

His father probably thought he had it moved already by minutes. The reality of his son sitting like a wimp would've deeply disappointed him. 

Though, it was on him. No one looking at Fitchner's shaking legs could have thought he would be ever able to...

Well, do whatever people do with Pinks.

"So," The Pink started. "What would you like me to do?" 

Fitchner threw a glance to the wall right besides the bed.

Tools were held in straps, some accelerating his heartbeat only with their very sight. 

He looked to a pair of handcuffs, then back at the Pink. He lifted his shoulders.

"You are the Pink."

"Would you like me to take the lead, dominus?"

Would he? 

Fitchner shrugged again. 

"I guess it would be nice." 

The striking heat that took over him had still lingered with them for a while. 

It was present when she leat Fitchner in the room of many pleasures. 

However, it was not quite the same kind of feeling when minutes went by with them just glancing at each other. It was the remedy for an embarrassing public boner.

"Don't worry, dominus. I will help you relax," She told him, reaching for the buckle of his pants.

"Alright." He muttered. 

But it was now harder to focus. The room was so cold. So gorydamned freezing cold! 

Shivers trickled down his spine.

Or maybe it was not only coldness.

"Don't you have central heating around here?" He found himself asking.

The Pink stopped. His eyes fell on her.

"It is cold." Fitchner then added.

"Don't worry about coldness, dominus," Her beautiful lips curled. "I will make you forget about that." 

"But I am cold now." 

For a moment, the Pink froze in front of him. Her fingers were on the buckle. Her eyes were on him. 

Fitchner was a bit embarrassed. Or perhaps more than a bit. Or more than more.

He swallowed te knot stuck in his throat.

"I will see what I can do, dominus."

Fitchner watched the Pink standing up and leaving through the narrow oak door. It looked old. In fact, everything looked old and used.

Even the toys looked antique and barely functional. 

For a reason he couldn't unravel, he didn't feel the curiosity to get up and touch anything: not even that Pink! 

And what kind of wimp would not be able to at least grope a fucking free Pink?

A laughter echoed behind the door. They may have been laughing at him, he thought for a second. 

May have? 

They surely were.

Well, fuck, they had all the reasons to. 

The door opened shortly after and the Pink reappeared in his sight. Just as thinned clothed and beautiful as before.

Perfect in expression and posture. 

Serene as Fitchner would have not been the biggest pain in the ass ever created.

"Hope this will help," She said, kneeling in front of him. "You will feel the effects in the next few moments, dominus."

Fitchner's cheeks were hot. 

No.

His entire body was hot. 

The boy clutched the bed sheets beneath, counting the stars on the ceiling. 

Were they stars? 

They only seemed like ugly painted dots. 

And they were forforescent too...

Oh, motherfucking shit! 

He was having a Pink in front of him and she was going to...

The Pink unzipped his pants.

Hell, no. No.

Fitchner shuddered. 

The Pink faltered, disoriented. Only a second had her gazing at him, without a single glance as a response from him. 

He fidgeted in his place.

It was something normal..

What was happening with him, he meant. Not in the slightest his reactions. 

In the end, every single Gold his age had experienced that already.

Maybe even younger being than him! 

It was supposed to feel good.

Or at least, it was what he had seen. They were all feeling excellent...

When she started dragging his pants down, Fitchner doubted the truth.

"I still don't feel it." Fitchner gushed out of the sudden. "The warmth, I mean. Did you even turn on the heating central?"

Silence. 

Fitchner stuttered. 

"I...I mean, you don't have to get offended. I just...you see,"

The Pink sighed. It froze him in place and stuck his words right in his throat.

Her pinks eyes rose to him. 

He had never heard a Pink to sigh. Not...in such a context. 

And he had never heard of any other Golds making Pinks sigh because of their cursed stupidity.

Fitchner was ready to excuse himself when she suddenly stood up.

"I am sorry, dominus," She said. "But are you sure you are up for anything?"

Fitchner's ears ached from all the heat. 

"What do you mean?" He asked, suddenly ruffled by her question. 

"You look lost," 

They spent a moment staring at each other.

The silence had made him look more imposing, as the annoyance in her pink eyes start to leak. 

"I apologize if I am mistaken," 

She bowed her head, ready to kneel back in front of him and let the embarrassing heat consummate between them.

But Fitchner didn't want that, he realized.

Well, he did! However...

It was not how he wanted it to unroll.

Her hands slipped on his pants and his heartbeat turned a thud into a thunder.

Unsure what to do, he peeked a hand in front, almost touching her forehead in desperation.

"No!" 

Her gaze leaped up to him. 

His eyes remained, as from the first very moment, fixed on her and her beautiful face. It was painful to watch her before. Then, it became unbearable.

Fitchner retracted his hand, closing it in a fist. His knuckles turned white, but his face was not in the same alignment. 

It only got redder than a miner. 

"What...," He ran a hand at his nape. "Well, what I want to say, you know, it is just that...," 

"Do you wish me to do other thing?" 

"Yes!" He was quick to jump. "Yes, please."

His heart sank at his very own words.

"What do you want?"

What did he want her to do?

She went away a centimeter. Then another, until she had furthered from him enough to let him breath at least a second.

The beautiful Pink was waiting for his response. 

But he only listened to the tapping sound of her heels, as she was heading to the bed.

The sound creaked deeply into his teeth.

"Just tell me and I will obey."

He could feel her gaze piercing through him. She sat next to him, obedient, willing to listen.

Time was running out. 

Or maybe not. 

Or was it? 

He could not tell. 

She was surely busy. She had so many upcoming clients, especially that they were ascending deeper in the night.

Fitchner looked down to his fingers, his thumbs racing in a circle, one after the other.

He waited. 

She did too. Both waited for someone to give the answer he didnțt have the gut, or the mind for.

"Do you want sex, dominus?" 

Her question startled him. 

It had enough power to make him lift his eyes, but not enough to even give him the courage to peek in between lashes. 

"You are a Pink...," He said, just not enough to surpass a whisper. "What can I take from you other than that?" 

The question was genuine. 

Fitchner knew he was a madman for seeking truthful answers in a conversation that would be deemed more than awkward or embarrassing by his fellow Golds.

It would be genuinely dishonoring. 

But he really wanted to talk to someone.

"There are many people that come to talk."

Those words prompted a gush of relief inside him.

No.

It was wrong.

His teeth clenched. 

He could not speak with a.... with a Pink!

"What kind of people? They couldn't be Golds...," His voice died against his attempt to be fierce. "No Gold would want your words." 

His own sayings wounded him deeply.

But Pinks were stupid. They knew nothing, but to sexually serve...

Sharp blades of guilt went through him.

He could not even finish that sentence.

"Yes, I apologize, dominus."

And so silence sat on them as a heavy blanket. 

She didn't let out a peep in all the seconds they spent gawking anywhere, but not at each other. 

She was taught to hold it inside her, but Fitchner could not stop his thoughts from pouring. 

Did she feel angry for what he had just said? 

If it were him to hear such thing...

Fitchner sighed. 

He wanted to think he would be able to punch anyone bold enough to eat shit about him. 

He was a warrior.

He was a future Peerless Scarred! 

But as he looked down...

He realised that he was far from that.

He had felt rage pumping in his veins many times, but only so often it peeked the surface. 

Maybe it was the case for her too.

She wanted to smack him, but her Color held her back from doing so.

In an odd way, it was the most refreshing thought he had from stepping inside the room.

He did enough so he could be at least a bit relevant in the mind and feelings of someone.

Even if that someone was a Pink and the feelings she felt for him was pure, understandable disgust.

The thought revealed a shred of boldness inside him.

Fitchner straightened his back. Or at least tried to, and opened his mouth: 

"And what kind of people wanted conversations with you?" 

Maybe taken by surprise, the girl with lavender hair took a moment to respond.

"Some, dominus." 

"Golds too?" 

She got lost in the threads of possible answers, or so seemed from her silence.

He got tired of holding his back still. 

His spine was burning.

He was no man of authority and his body only continued to sustain the idea loud and clear.

He hunched back, to the man so short and ugly he had always been.

And there went his boldness...

"You can be sincere," He whispered. "I am not going to be mad."

His eyes slipped closer to her. They stagnated at the level of her breast for a moment. The sight flustered him.

His gaze jumped up immediately to her face. 

"Golds don't buy me. I am not... beautiful enough for them."

The sight of her profile made his palms sweat. 

Not beautiful enough?

That's a blasphemy!

Her nose was powerful. 

Big, yet not ugly like his. Hooked, but in a goddess would wear it. And her lips were so plump, too...

It was too late to coward away.

She sat almost hunched, like him. With her stomach creating folds of skin. 

He kept on looking at her, as absorbed by the light she emanated. By the beauty she possessed, natural as she was in that imperfect position. 

Was his turn to talk? 

"I am usually brought by lowColors. Browns, Reds... they are the ones from around here. We talk."

She faced him, looking for answers in his eyes. 

It then dawned on him that he had his mouth opened.

"What do they talk to you?" He hurried to ask.

"Anything they feel like talking about."

She looked like she knew what he was doing, that he watched her. Her body stiffened, her face remained bleak and empty of expression.

She became a doll.

Fitchner didn't like that. Not in the slightest.

His head bowed, as in hope for her to release herself. 

He knew he was what was jarring her. 

Maybe more than because of his Colour: he was a pain to have around, after all. 

"You can be natural if you want to," He said in a mutter. "You look stiff." 

She scrutinized him, deepening Fitchner in his embarrassment. 

"Sorry," He continued. "I was rude."

"No. I was. I am sorry, dominus," 

The bed creacked and the beautiful Pink shifted her position. Fitchner was compelled to watch, but felt it was wrong. 

"Is it alright like that?"

It was more than bracing to hear her voice.

When Fitchner had turned his eyes to her, he found the same person, as stiff as before.

She was sensual. She had beautiful features, but...

"You look uncomfortable." 

She was not like herself. 

Fitchner felt bad for criticizing her. 

Yeah, for sure, he was the right person to do so: a boy with thrawn nose and a triple forehead! 

He was no near match her looks. Maybe he needed to shut up. Forever, if possible, and wait for the time to run out. 

She deserved freedom.

The girl moved once again and from how her legs opened, she was ready to flash something Fitchner didn't want to see.

Not then. 

"Don't try," He told her. "It is not worth it. I will go away soon." 

He would do it right then if he could. 

He would dash away from her proximity if he knew his father would not be waiting excitedly to hear his storytelling. 

His nonexistent one. 

But he was afraid that the act of running away would sadden the beautiful girl besides him, maybe it would tell her she was not attractive enough or– 

No. 

It was dumb. 

Pinks could not be hurt. 

But how could he else explain to himself what sentiment was hiding in her round eyes? They were hooded of something dark, harsh and unsuitable for a Pink. 

At least he thought. 

Weren't Pinks supposed to be perfect? Sadness was a word far away from flawless, just as bowed eyes didn't look sensual. 

Did he make a Pink miserable? Of course he did! 

Fucking idiot. 

He had no other talent aside of making ladies uncomfortable and stiff. 

Perhaps he should lock himself in the house and never let anyone free him. 

No.

Not perhaps.

Surely. 

He would after this gorydamned day would be over!

He should be considered a danger to the entertainment of the Society. 

It better not surprise him the very next time someone would call him a loser – it would be a well deserved title. 

In fact– 

"Is your birthday today, dominus?"

His eyes opened wide.

Was he about to say anything? In fact? In fact what? 

He became one with a boiling pot of water. But it was his blood that was simmering so much that his face became coated in a scarlet shade.

"Yes," He whispered.

Fitchner cleared his throat. 

"Yes." He corrected himself, now louder and clearer. 

Why was he still trying? 

"Well, happy birthday, dominus." 

Happy birthday...

His heart sprung in his chest. 

She was the third person to consider wishing him a happy birthday. Aside of his parents, a Pink with lavender hair took care to tell him even those simple, yet so difficult words.

"How old are you?" She asked. 

Fitchner cocked his head in her direction, taken by surprise. The Pink dwarfed in front of his gaze and his hands sprung up to calm her.

His gesture didn't reach it's goal. The Pink quaked and her arm spur to cover her face.

The view hinged his breath.

It was the last straw. 

Fitchner shot up on his legs. 

He couldn't be there.

No more.

He fucked up enough. The last gorydamn thing he wanted to do was to scare a Pink!

Fitchner passed by her without a word. It would have been hilarious: to talk with this woman after he was the stick shoved in her ass for the past...

Past...

Fuck that! Fuck time! Fuck his shithead father! 

Time had ran from him like any other being. In silence. Without warning. Between him and her, there could have passed a few snappy minutes, or a hurtful eternity.

Whatever it would have been, it was already too much time spent with him. 

"Dominus! Dominus, wait!" 

Her hand found his. 

Cold and long fingers wrapped around his hand, barely able to grab even the wrist of a scrawny bastard like himself. 

His instinct roared to him to turn his head, but he was...

Gorydamned, it was so embarrassing to even admit, but he was afraid.

Afraid. 

Fucking afraid.

Even thinking it made him feel stupid, but, to hell with all!, he was stupid. He was a mad shitpot, his mind was always over the place, so why was he shitting his pants so much there? 

His own idiocy had never surprised himself so much like in that day, when a Pink had talked with him for the first time and, more than that, had touched him. 

Not his cock. She didn't tickle his balls or whatever there was that his father had told him to expect. 

Fitcher gazed over his own wrist. 

"I am sorry," She murmured, her fingers unlocking slowly, hesitantly.

She touched him as he would be more than a payer and she more than a fucktoy.

Despite the regret in her voice, there was a truth hiding that he could not deny. His own hand had never looked better, but accompanied by a warm touch.

Even if it was a mistake.

"You don't need to apologise," He whispered to her. 

The Pink gawked at him. 

Her face muscles flinched. Her eyes were enlarged. Thin hands with triangular sigils were fidgeting around the bed sheets.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't need to apologize,"

Unshackled from her grip, Fitchner touched his own wrist. 

"I do. I am an idiot." 

"No," She shook her head. "No, that's wrong. You are not an idiot." 

But even weak as he was, he was not there to be lied to. 

"Of course you would say that," He left out a sour chuckle. "You can't be ever telling a Gold he is an idiot," His eyes reached hers. "And you are paid to make me feel better, even if I don't deserve it." 

"Dominus, you deserve it." 

"Because I am a Gold?" 

Silence.

It was all she could give to him.

Understandably, but understanding had never made it easier. Sometimes, it only made the pain cut deeper. 

His eyes stung. He knew there was no place for his gaze on her beautiful face. 

What was he expecting? 

Too much for what he was actually deserving. 

"Have a good day." He whispered.

So quiet was his voice that he doubted his message had reached her, but it didn't matter anyway. He was already heading to the door as the thought struck him. 

Fitchner didn't care.

Not anymore.

His father could be waiting at the door with his ears cupped on the oak and he would not give a single shit. 

Fuck that bastard. 

Fuck himself.

Fuck anyone.

"Dominus." 

His body froze in place. His hand was so close to grab the doorknob, yet so far away.

He could not leave her.

Oh, goryhell! He could.

He just didn't want to.

"Dominus, you deserve to be made to feel better."

"Because I am a Gold," He quietly snarled. "I got it already." 

"Not because of that. No!"

The firmness in her voice sent Fitchner's skin crawling.

A Pink...

A Pink had so much boldness. 

"You deserve it because you are only a child." 

And kindness all together.

How could these weave together so nicely? 

Fitchner faced the door.

"I am not a child, lady... miss. I am a Gold man."

The bed creacked. Heels touched the ground.

He knew she was approaching and it pierce a pit through him.

"You talked about the Institute, right? Your father said something about it. You are fifteen. Sixteen. Am I right?" 

Was it worth talking? 

Fitchner's joints trembled.

With her? 

"Sixteen. I am sixteen."

It was worth it. 

Because she seemed like caring. 

He turned half his body. He knew she was close, but he didn't anticipate what it meant. 

She was only a few steps away. He could not possibly avoid the sudden collision of their gazes. 

It was no time to run away from that. Not anymore. How much was there for him to fuck up, really? 

"At sixteen, you are no man. You are a child. Praise that."

"How old are you?" Fitchner asked the Pink.

Behind himself, he only left ash. There was no time an exception had ever existed.

It was not worth being coward in those moments. 

The girl in front of him faltered. Her mouth curved. Words were ready to get in between those lips, but she needed that silence.

Those lips were not only beautiful.

They had said smart things, too.

"I am seventeen, dominus." 

His shoulders sunk. 

"You are not much older. You are a child as well." 

"I was never a child." 

Her words made his eyebrows knit, but he could not express his confusion. 

A loud voice emerged from behind the door.

"Fitchner, boyo! Come on, are you done there?"

His father. That piece of shit, long overdue his expiration date. 

Fitchner's body clenched in an instant.

His voice had that power over him. It was so far away from fear. Maybe it was disgust. Repulsion. Tiredness. 

Looking at her, maybe it was what the Pink had felt all along. 

"Pull up your panties and let's go! Your mama is batshit crazy, I swear. She keeps calling and shit."

Fitchner had in his instinct to go. 

Not just go.

Fly. 

Fly to his commands, only so his mouth could remain silent and his words away from his ears.

He wanted all to be finished. 

At least for that day.

He yearned that memory closed and sealed, even if a pair of pink eyes had made it to be so sweet in it's bitterness.

Fitchner was only a step away to close off that day. 

His birthday. 

"Take care of yourself, dominus." The Pink told him, sympathy overflowing her gaze.

If he would shut the door behind him, she would stop existing.

It was the logic he knew. 

Pinks were made to be used and die.

He was done. She would be forever erased from his memory, especially as a Peerless future was laying in front of him. 

But it didn't feel right.

The doorknob was cold in his hand. 

He had the power to twist it and open the door, but not the one to leave. 

He had to ask a question.

One more. 

Fitchner turned his head in her direction.

"What's your name?"

Her features loosened their tension and he had seen the most genuine thing of that day: the real smile of a Pink.

"Selena." 

Fitchner nodded. 

Selena.

He leant his hand, even if he was wronging.

They both did make mistakes that day, after all.

"I am Fitchner. Nice to meet you, Selena."

They locked a warm touch with their cold hands. A touch that perhaps was not meant to last that long, but did anyway. 

"Take care of yourself, Selena." 

To his words, her fingers clenched a bit tighter on his skin. 

"You too, dominus." 

When he had the power to leave, it seemed like she didn't. Her voice followed him as he opened the door. 

"And, dominus," 

Fitchner cocked his head. 

"If you ever feel lonely, just remember the right people wlll stick, okay? They will stick and your life will be so much easier." 

At that time, her words made no sense to him. Or maybe it was only the timing that confused him, but before he had the chance to realise what was happening with him, she left him go.

His hand hadn't felt emptier in all his days lived before that one.

But at least he had her name.

Selena.

And it was so beautiful.

In that night, Fitchner clinged tightly to a hope he didn't tell anyone about: to be ever able to find Selena again. 

His hope got lost in the long way to the Institute. 

It faded completely in the bloody wars within it and he thought her name went down the drain with every hope he once had.

But he was wrong.


End file.
